


It's Getting Hot in Here

by Hoofendoof



Series: Werelawyers are the Best Lawyers [1]
Category: Suits (TV)
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Mpreg, Office Sex, werewolf!Mike
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-14
Updated: 2013-01-23
Packaged: 2017-11-25 12:09:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 8,713
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/638756
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hoofendoof/pseuds/Hoofendoof
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>That awkward moment when you go into heat in your boss' corner office of doom.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Really? In the Office?

**Author's Note:**

> I'm using symptoms of a dog's heat, so everything might be a little strange

Harvey watched as Mike snapped at another poor associate, nose wrinkled slightly and eyes wide. The associate quickly retreated and Mike adjusted his collar and went back to work (Louis made him review briefs again like the heartless bastard he was). Harvey narrowed his eyes and approached Mike’s cubicle with his hands in his pockets; Mike sighed and looked up, ready to tear apart whoever was vying for his attention. He blinked and relaxed a bit when he saw Harvey.  
“Getting pissy, puppy?” Harvey smiled a bit, “Or do I need to ask Donna to get you a tampon?” Mike stared – no, glared – at Harvey, a menacing death stare that would turn a lesser man into a scrambling idiot. Good thing Harvey wasn’t a lesser man.  
“What do you want, Harvey?” Mike snapped, knuckles turning white around his highlighter. Harvey noticed a twitch in the muscle of Mike’s jaw and a vein pop in his forehead. Harvey frowned, wondering why his normally placid associate was turning into a rage-monster.  
“What’s your problem, Ross?” Harvey asked. Mike’s jaw seemed to clench impossibly tighter, then his cheeks reddened just a little bit. Harvey could almost see Mike’s brain turning and twisting and doing all sorts of complicated gymnastics to find some sort of excuse. Harvey shook his head, “Just take the day off. I’ll tell Jessica you went to pick up my suits from all of my dry cleaners.”  
Of course Mike just had to blow up on him, telling Harvey he was a big boy and to back the fuck away from his face. Then, predictably, Mike was sent home, an unhappy Harvey glaring at his stiff retreating shoulders. Mike sat tenderly on his couch; he could feel his opening fluttering and swelling. Being a werewolf wasn’t all that bad. Heightened senses, more stamina. Being an omega – the lowest of the low, was not easy at all. As an omega, Mike was subject to heat cycles every six months or so, and didn’t shift. He was breed stock, merely a body to be used to pop out new and better werewolves. Trevor, his sympathetic Beta friend who actually transformed, had done that, sold Mike off while he was high and in estrus to make quick cash. Thankfully Mike knew of a few doctors who were aware of his special condition. Mike rubbed his face and went to his bathroom. He opened the cupboard under the sink to check his supply of women’s tissues (he refused to call them pads. He also denied their presence in his apartment). He counted the days he had lost his appetite and his change in mood. Shit…  
Mike calculated when estrus would start. Maybe four more days before he is begging for anyone with a dick to ease his suffering. He knew how bad the swelling got, how wary he got around others. Maybe he should take a week off while he was bleeding and skittish. He had felt the need to stay sitting all day, protect himself from the other associates – growling, groveling, sniffing dogs who smelled weakness and fear over their own stench of self-superiority. Mike changed, showered, peered at his swelling hole and stuck a pad (feminine napkin goddamnit) onto his underwear and crawled into bed. 

Morning came with a bloody feminine napkin and a swollen opening. Mike was also humping his spare pillow ferociously. He knew the swelling would get worse, creep down his perineum and stop just behind his balls making sitting for long periods of time a real bitch, and finally it would get so bad his anus would swell shut and leave only his hole exposed. Mike sighed, replaced the pad, and got dressed for work. He opened his fridge, peered inside, and promptly closed it. Mike always lost his appetite during proestrus. Mike drank some water, something to fill his stomach, and exited his apartment. The bike ride to work was awful.  
Thankfully, work was a bit better. Nobody bothered Mike and he made serious headway in the reading Louis had given him. He shifted constantly in his seat as the swelling got worse. Mike noticed Harvey hovered at the door of the office but didn’t approach. The bike ride back home was twice as awful as the ride to work. 

The rest of the week went by similarly. His trashcan was getting embarrassingly full of bloody pads. Mike noticed with dismay that the cotton was getting less red and more yellow. His poor spare pillow was getting humped violently all night. Until Friday. Always Friday. Mike was one hundred pages away from finishing his reading (he’d starting sitting on his leg like a hemorrhoid donut on Wednesday; biking home with a half-numb leg was never fun) when Harvey summoned him into the corner office of doom. Mike walked through the offices, associates looking up at him as he passed. Donna waved him through and as soon as Mike made eye contact with Harvey he felt the sudden need to either flee or rip his pants off and hump Harvey’s leg. He chose the former. Harvey gave Mike a weird look and leaned forward. “What’s wrong, Mike?”  
“Um…” Mike balked, and tried not to grind against the sofa. He could feel it, feel his opening softening, moistening, ready for penetration. Soon he would be absolutely begging for it. Mike stared Harvey in the face and knew he was screwed. “I… nothing. Can I leave?”  
Harvey’s jaw was clenched, brow furrowed, and he was clearly trying not to chew on his pen. “I need you to stay, and I need to know what’s going on. I have an important case that I need you to take and I need to make sure you’re able to handle it without biting the client’s head off.” Mike blinked.  
“I’ll be fine, Harvey,” he said, “I’m completely under control.” That was a lie, but Harvey didn’t need to know that. He just had to endure until work was over, then he could go out and get laid. It was growing late, so the only thing Mike could do with the case would be to read it over and start some research. Harvey gave Mike another once-over and held up the file. Mike quickly sat up, opening fluttering and leaking some more, and grabbed the folder as calmly as he could. He fled from Harvey’s corner office of doom and back to his cubicle. He had Louis’ reading to finish. 

“Don’t you think he was a little fidgety?” Harvey was bent over Donna’s desk, looking down the hallway after Mike. “Could he be high again?”  
“Doesn’t look like it,” Donna said, typing an email, “He looked like he had a great time with a very well-endowed guy last night.” Harvey blinked and decided to be embarrassed for Mike’s sake. Maybe a little jealous. He decided to leave it and pay Mike a visit before he left. 

The time passed quickly, and soon Harvey was strolling to Mike’s cubicle. It was approaching midnight and Mike was unsurprisingly the only one at a desk, and he was hunched over, apparently breathing hard. Harvey quickened his pace and grabbed Mike’s shoulder. All he got was a strangled moan and Mike fell back, hand clenched around his dick. Harvey jumped back but Mike didn’t stop, arching even more as he came with a cry. But Mike still didn’t cease his constant grip, his constant moving, even jerked his hips into his hand; Harvey lunged forward and grabbed Mike’s hand away from his dick. Mike’s hips continued to jerk even as he keened at the loss. Harvey took the time to notice how red and raw Mike’s penis was, and the sweat on his face. He had been doing this for a while.  
Harvey dragged his still panting and twitching associate to his corner office and forced Mike onto the couch. Mike grabbed at his flushed prick and rolled around and rubbed his face on the soft material, pumping furiously. He groaned, a guttural animalistic sound that sent shivers down Harvey’s spine. He didn’t know why (and he really should be embarrassed) but he was hard. Mike shifted and yanked at his pants, pulling them down just enough to expose his hole. Harvey stepped back in shock at Mike’s puffy opening, fluttering and leaking in a way similar to a woman; Harvey’s dick absolutely throbbed and he had no idea why. Mike shoved two fingers into himself all the way up to the third knuckle and arched, moaning. He thrusted forward frantically into his hand and back onto his fingers and came, shuddering weakly, a thin stream of semen trickling between his fingers. Mike still didn’t stop jerking himself, perhaps slowed a bit, and grunted in pain.  
Harvey grappled with Mike and wrestled his hands away from his tender nether regions. Mike keened and writhed and attempted futilely to hump the back of Harvey’s very nice (very expensive) couch. Harvey finally gave up and leaned over his associate, pinning little Mike down with his chest. He felt Mike press his hips up, heard the associate give a strangled, “Please!”  
Oh, Harvey was devastatingly hard and losing the fight to keep his head. He didn’t know how or why fucking Mike absolutely senseless was seeming like such a fantastic idea, but he wasn’t going to complain. The chicks at the bar and the men at the clubs had been unfriendly as of late. Harvey also didn’t keep condoms or lube in his office (he’s a professional, after all). Perhaps Mike would be sated with getting fingered and maybe a blowjob. Harvey bent over Mike’s head and whispered, “You’re explaining everything after.”  
Mike made the sweetest noises as Harvey’s fingers slid into him; Harvey felt awkward as he breached the heat, the slickness that shouldn’t be slick. Mike felt loose around his fingers and stretched easily inside. Harvey felt concerned about the puffiness around his hole, how swollen and red he was down his perineum. Harvey touched the hot skin and traced it down to Mike’s testicles. Harvey felt Mike clench around his fingers while he explored, so Harvey withdrew from Mike’s hole and slipped back inside with three fingers. Mike stretched gloriously around him.  
Soon Mike was writhing, pressing back and mewling. Harvey withdrew and flipping Mike over, reaching down to remove the associate’s shoes and socks. Mike seemed to get it through his haze and fumbled with the buttons on his shirt. Harvey tugged Mike’s pants down and gently pulled them off one leg at a time; he did the same with Mike’s sweat-soaked underwear (Harvey should be disgusted, but it made him worry. How long had Mike been working himself?) and leaned forward to take Mike into his mouth. Mike moaned loudly arching into Harvey’s throat like he couldn’t get enough. He tasted like musk and sweat and come and Harvey couldn’t get enough. He reached up, brushed Mike’s swollen perineum and slid three fingers into Mike’s hole. His associate came almost immediately with a cry, legs shuddering and twitching. Harvey swallowed his release and licked him clean. His dick throbbed and he felt precome soak into his silk boxers. He pulled back, expecting a limp and pliable associate. Instead, Mike was still hard, red from hairline to bellybutton, and reaching down to shove four fingers into his hole.  
“Please,” Mike whined, “I need more Harvey!” Harvey shook his head and backed away again, trying to hide how terribly turned on he was. Mike cried out and pulled his fingers from his hole. He rolled ungracefully to his feet and leapt toward Harvey. He landed wrong and thy both went to the floor. Mike was all over Harvey in an instant, yanking at his pants. Somehow Mike opened Harvey’s fly and tugged his trousers down just enough to gain easy access to Harvey’s penis. He slid a hand over Harvey’s length, teased the purpling head with his tongue. He shifted up to straddle Harvey’s hips, reaching back to line himself up…  
“No, Mike! We don’t have protection!” Harvey tried to sit up and shove Mike off, but Mike pinned his wrists with one big hand (how, Harvey didn’t know) and quickly sat down, taking Harvey in with almost no resistance. Mike didn’t even give himself time to adjust, just started sliding up and down, rolling his hips in the most lewd way possible. Harvey couldn’t help but watch. He knew this was wrong, he should be fighting, but something was making his body placid, letting Mike ride him like there was no tomorrow.  
Mike was moaning, legs twitching with need. He let Harvey’s hand go and wrapped a hand around himself, coming almost instantly, clenching sweetly around Harvey’s dick. Harvey furrowed his brow as Mike remained hard as a rock. “How many times have you…”  
“Five,” Mike panted, pacing his hands on Harvey’s pecs to stabilize himself. He quickened his pace, trying hard to bring Harvey off. He could feel it, feel the coil of heat in his belly about to snap and oh shit he can’t come inside – Harvey tried to shove Mike off, tried to roll them over so he could spring away…  
“Fuck, you don’t knot,” Mike muttered, reaching back and slipping two fingers into himself around Harvey’s dick and that was it – Harvey was arching up and coming into Mike as deep as he could. Mike moaned and collapsed forward, holding his hips above his head, maybe to keep Harvey’s come inside as long as possible. Harvey slipped out, softening, but Mike’s fingers remained, kneading into his stretched hole. They were both panting, and Harvey was pretty sure the guy watching security might have gotten the best show of his life.  
Harvey gently rolled Mike to the side and allowed him to lay limp on the carpet; he got up, quickly pulled on his underwear, and went to the bathroom to get a few paper towels to clean up. When he came back, Mike was out, legs twitching as he slept. Harvey rolled him onto his back and gently dabbed at the come and sweat on his legs and stomach. Mikes abs flexed as the cool towel touched his skin, but remained dead to the world. He rolled Mike back over and dabbed at his hole (the swelling was going down) so Harvey took the time to explore his associate’s biology.  
As the swelling went down, Harvey found a small slit above Mike’s hole. With furrowed brows he gently prodded at the open, loose opening – it clenched gently around his finger, smooth and wet with fluids, and then ran his finger over the slit above. It clenched tight and Mike jumped. A dribble of semen dripped out of Mike’s hole and Harvey sat back. Mike was out for the count, totally unresponsive. Harvey couldn’t leave him here, so he dressed Mike as carefully as he could and called a cab. Harvey shook his associate, who managed to wake up just enough to get him to stumble to the elevator out the door to a cab.  
They drove to Harvey’s building and Harvey wrestled Mike up the elevator. He walked Mike into his bedroom and dumped him onto the bed. Mike settled down, relaxed even more, so Harvey brushed his teeth, stripped, and crawled in next to Mike.


	2. Plus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which there is good news.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fucking with biology is really fun. I need to make male pregnancy "realistic" somehow.

The sun rose and Harvey woke to Mike humping a spare pillow. Upon further inspection, Harvey found Mike was still asleep. He figured it was part of whatever Mike was going through and decided it was too early to be concerned, so he rolled out of bed and into the shower. He dressed and went out to fix coffee and pulled bread out for toast. If Mike was himself again Harvey would demand an explanation. He turned on the TV and flicked through the channels, finally settling on Saturday morning cartoons.  
“Tom and Jerry? I’ve lost all respect for you,” Mike said, standing naked by the counter with his arms crossed. His penis was flaccid and red, and he looked very tired. Harvey shrugged and continued watching. Mike made himself coffee stole a slice of bread from the bag. He sat down next to Harvey and munched, looking at his knees. Harvey waits until the episode is over before turning off the TV and moving to face Mike.  
“Explain.”  
Mike sighed and put his coffee cup down. After what he made Harvey do, his boss deserved an explanation. “I…I’m a werewolf. And I’m an omega, so I don’t shift. Omegas are used as breeding stock and are biologically designed to have children, so instead of shifting periodically omegas go into heat. We produce pheromones that make us irresistible to other wolves and draw in humans. It’s similar to a dog’s heat really. And I went into estrus…in your office…” Mike turned a bright shade of red and pointedly looked away from Harvey. Harvey noticed Mike was half hard.  
“So how do you give birth?” Harvey asked, wondering about the slit above Mike’s hole he found last night. “Is it like shitting children?” Mike laughed outright and looked back at Harvey incredulously.  
“Two separate systems. Kind of like a woman. Do you want me to show you?”  
Harvey nodded, feeling the color drain from his face. He scooted over so Mike could lie on his back. Mike spread his legs, tilting his hips up so Harvey could get a better view. There, the swelling had gone down almost all the way – two holes, one open and loose and another held tightly closed. Harvey paled even more knowing the implications of that loose opening. He reached up tentatively and brushed a finger over it; Mike remained quiet, but Harvey’s finger came back wet. Harvey sighed and moved his finger down to the hole that was tightly shut. There, the hard ring of muscle and lack of lubrication that Harvey was used to.  
“So it’s not like shitting children…” Harvey murmured and pulled away, “How fertile are you during… whatever it is you go through?” Mike reddened, closed his legs and stood up. He went back to the kitchen and dug through Harvey’s fridge for some fruit.  
“About eighty-five percent, if it’s human sperm. One hundred if I mate with another werewolf,” he tried to say nonchalantly. With odds like that Mike might as well call himself knocked up. He bit into an apple and came back into the living room. “I know of a few werewolf doctors who can terminate pregnancies if anything were to happen.”  
Harvey stood up, brow furrowed, looking angry, “No! I’d never want that Mike. I don’t want to walk around wondering what could have been and what I made you do! If you do get pregnant then I want to be with you every step of the way.”  
“Even though I jumped you.”  
“Even though you jumped me. I don’t want to be absent in any child’s life.” Harvey looked Mike over and imagined Mike seven months down the road – broad hips, a bulging stomach, and small breasts. He felt raising this child would be retribution for his own childhood, a chance to make someone’s life better than his own was. It was glorious and beautiful.  
Harvey pulled Mike in for a kiss, hard and full of passion. Mike moaned into his mouth. Harvey backed him up to the bed and let Mike fall back. The associate scrambled up the bed as Harvey shucked his clothes and followed, clambering over Mike to connect their lips again. Mike arched up and wrapped his legs around Harvey’s hips. Their dicks brushed and Mike threw his head back. Harvey ducked down and kissed down Mike’s neck, sucked a red mark on each collarbone and continued down, licking each nipple in turn, imagining them tender and swollen and dripping with sweet milk.  
He paid special attention to Mike’s stomach, dipping into his bellybutton and following the trail of dark hairs that led to a surprisingly groomed patch just above the base of Mike’s dick. He pressed his nose into it, inhaling the deep masculine musk and finally licking his way up Mike’s shaft. The associate was a twitching panting mess and Harvey loved it. He swallowed Mike down, pressing his tongue to the underside of Mike’s penis as he went. Mike moaned deliciously and tried to thrust up, but Harvey held his hips tight.  
It was over embarrassingly quickly. Harvey took Mike in one more time and Mike cried out, snapped his hips forward and came, eyes rolling back into his head and legs spasming wildly. He wasn’t even done when Harvey slipped two fingers into his hole, fluids coating the digits as Mike’s wall expanded sweetly for him. Harvey slipped out and rubbed his prick against Mike’s opening, gathering his slickness, and lined himself up. He slid into that tempting heat and waited for Mike to squirm, attempt to thrust himself back onto Harvey like his instincts told him to. It didn’t take long, and soon Harvey was thrusting deep and slow, Mike mewling below him. Harvey imagined Mike taking it when he was just starting to show and again at eight months, supporting his belly as Harvey slid in and out. And he was coming, shoving himself into Mike’s accepting body as deep as he could. Mike reached out and pulled Harvey down for a kiss, wrapping his legs Harvey’s hips to keep him inside.  
Harvey grinned at Mike. “I’m glad it’s the weekend.”

After a quick nap they went back at it again, alternating between slow lovemaking and fast fucking. They took breaks to recharge and eat and shower, then went back at it again. Sunday brought morning frottage and another few rounds after breakfast, then a trip to the store to buy prenatal vitamins (Mike said it was for his sister). When they got home Harvey took Mike in the kitchen, fed him dinner, and ate him out in the shower. Mike made sure to file those two days as the best weekend ever. 

“Tell me about werewolves.”  
“That’s why we have this magical thing called Wikipedia.”  
“You’ve memorized the page.”  
“No, Harvey, go read it yourself.”  
“Fine. But you’re taking the next case.”

“Why are you sticking around, Harvey?”  
“Because I got you pregnant.”  
“Ouch. My feelings.”  
“That’s not the only reason. I like you.”  
“I’m going to be severely disappointed if it’s a platonic like.”  
“It’s not.”  
“I like you too, Harvey.”

After three weeks Mike called his doctor, an eccentric old Beta by the name of Jamie Goldman, and set up an appointment to check for pregnancy. Dr. Goldman advised Mike to get a flu shot and get at least half an hour of exercise daily. Harvey and Mike talked about their feelings (it was almost as awkward as when Grammy gave Mike The Talk). Harvey insisted that Mike move in with him, and even paid the movers to bring Mike’s things over with the utmost care. They had marathon sex that night and took the day off the next day to recover.

“So…I meant it when I blurted ‘I love you’ that last round…”  
“I know.”

A week later Mike went into Dr. Goldman’s office. He told her about Harvey and the prenatal vitamins and his flu shot. She smiled at him and handed him a white stick. She ushered him to a bathroom and told him to pee on the stick. Mike came out a few minutes later, feeling sheepish and nervous and a bit crampy. Dr. Goldman waited patiently, staring at the stick as it developed, and broke out into a wide grin. She showed him the stick. A bright blue plus was on the end of the test.


	3. Development

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Mike grows bigger

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hooray for thoroughly researching pregnancy. In the middle of my psychology class. And fucking with biology.

“Mike, you left your phone in my office again.”  
“Pregnancy brain,” Mike supplied, his feet on Harvey’s coffee table, reading a pregnancy book. This will be the first child he carried to term, and he wanted to be completely ready. “I’ll start making lists, but so far I’ve only forgotten my phone.”  
“And deodorant, that one t--”  
“That one time. I made a list and taped it to the mirror this morning.” He touched his belly gingerly, knowing that another human was growing in there, only about as big as a grain of sand, but by now the heart is developed and pumping blood. He couldn’t believe a week ago he had rushed home to Harvey and all but shoved the positive test in his face. Followed by marathon sex and staring at the ceiling in amazement.  
“I need to pee again.”   
“Thank you for sharing.”   
Mike shot Harvey a dirty look and escaped to the bathroom for the fourth time that afternoon. Harvey thought about making a snack or starting an early dinner. Mike emerged from the bathroom and returned to the couch. “Call for a pizza,” he ordered, picking up his book.  
Harvey called his favorite place and asked them to rush the delivery. He sat next to Mike and skimmed the book with him; something about Kegel exercises. Harvey was growing bored and considering tickling Mike when the bell rang. Harvey went to fetch the pizza and brought it to the kitchen. He set two slices onto plates and brought them out to the living room. Mike took one look at the food and sprinted to the bathroom. The awful sounds of Mike vomiting assaulted Harvey’s ears. He quickly disposed of the offending junk food and went to see Mike. The poor guy was hugging the toilet bowl, dry heaving. He flushed it pathetically and picked his head up, resting his forehead on the lid of the porcelain throne.   
“I’m so done with puking,” Mike muttered, “seriously.”  
Harvey grimaced and handed Mike a glass of water. Mike swished and spat in the toilet, then got to his feet. He brushed his teeth while Harvey embraced him from behind, kissing the back of his neck. 

“Harvey! help me dump all the booze.”  
“Why, Mike? That was expensive scotch…”  
“There will be no drugs here until the baby comes. That includes caffeine and alcohol.”  
“I think that’s taking it a bit far, Mike. You can’t do anything to cause a miscarriage unless you’re using hard drugs.”  
“I never used hard drugs. I just know where to buy them.”  
“So you’re fine.”

“Harvey!”  
“Are you okay?” Harvey rushed into the bedroom, almost colliding with the dresser in his haste to make sure Mike was fine. He was standing in front of the mirror, holding his shirt up. His eyes and nose were getting pink.   
“I’m getting fat,” Mike whined, eyes glistening. Harvey sighed and chuckled and wrapped his arms around Mike’s waist. His hands could still touch, and Mike still looked thin and pretty. If anything, the added weight made him look healthy and not terrifyingly thin (as Mike was prone to work through meals).   
“You’re beautiful,” Harvey murmured, “And you know you’ll get a lot bigger.”  
“I know. Losing all the weight will be so hard…”  
Harvey rolled his eyes and reached down to cup Mike. He didn’t make any noise, just continued staring at his belly angrily. They were going to be late for work, but a keyed up and moody Mike made for a stressful workday. Harvey slipped his hand under Mike’s boxers and grasped him firmly, pumping slowly. He ran his thumb over the glans and slid back down. Mike moaned and twitched; he was so responsive as of late.   
Once they were finished and cleaned up, Harvey called Ray and they rushed to work.  
Rachel approached Mike’s desk around noon holding coffee and takeout from some high-end Thai place. Mike stared at her, looked at the little white box with the restaurant’s logo. Then puked noisily into his trashcan. Some of the associates in the office looked over with concern, others rolled their eyes. Rachel set the takeout box on Mike’s desk and placed a hand on his shoulder.   
“Please,” Mike gasped between heaves, “take it away!” Rachel gave the food a confusing look before taking it to another empty desk. Mike dry heaved for a minute and spat into the trash. Rachel came back and Mike dug a toothbrush and toothpaste out of his bag (he puked a few times at work, but this is the first time he puked at his desk). Rachel helped him to the bathroom and sat back while Mike rinsed his mouth and brushed his teeth.   
“Sorry,” Mike said, wiping his mouth, “I’ve been feeling sick recently. Didn’t know it was that bad.” Rachel nodded and her eyes flicked to his stomach. Mike felt his cheeks redden. He went back to his desk, packed his things, and went to Harvey’s office. Donna looked at him and waved him in.  
“I just puked at my desk,” he said. Harvey looked up. “If I stay here people will get suspicious.”  
Harvey’s brow furrowed, “Have you puked at work before?”  
“Several times.”  
“Why didn’t you tell me?”  
“Because you would worry.”  
“Go home. Take a nap, be lazy. How many weeks along?”  
“Seven. This morning sickness will be done with soon.”   
Harvey smiled and Mike left. At home he stripped and lay down on Harvey’s (their) bed. He snuggled up against Harvey’s pillow and fell asleep, breathing in the masculine scent of sleep-sweat. 

“What a heartbeat!” Dr. Goldman said. Mike was tearing up (he told himself he wouldn’t cry, goddamnit. Fucking hormones) and Harvey squeezed his hand. Goldman smiled at him and patted his stomach. “How’s the morning sickness?”  
“It sucks,” Mike laughed breathlessly, the sound of his baby’s heartbeat ringing in his ears. A tear ran down his cheek (don’t cry, Mike, you got this. Fuck it, you’re already crying). He let a few breathless sobs loose and thought about what he had read in one of his books: at eight weeks, the developing baby would have brainwaves, webbed feet and toes, and have lungs and rudimentary organs. It would be a half inch long. It was beautiful. Harvey handed Mike a handkerchief and Mike dabbed at his eyes.  
He sat up, feeling the sharp pain on the right side of his hip.   
“Are you bleeding, any pink discharge?” Goldman asked, a comforting hand on his ankle. Mike nodded, thinking of Harvey giggling when he found Mike’s supply of feminine napkins (the look on Harvey’s face when he found a trashcan full of Mike’s used pads was absolutely hilarious. Mike laughed until his abs cramped).   
“It’s spotty, nothing heavy,” Mike said, “I’ll call you if it gets way worse.” Goldman smiled and set a due date – sometime in February, and Mike and Harvey were sent home.


	4. Downside of Babymaking

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Mike gets bigger and has nightmares.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Or, the one where Hoof discovers funny things during pregnancy. Also, this got dark...ho damn. 
> 
> Ends at week 20.

“Mike, what are you doing?”  
“Kegels.”  
“Why?”  
“Because your kid is using my bladder as a pillow and I’m leaking urine.”  
“Oh.”

They tumbled across the sheets, Harvey sliding in and out rhythmically. Mike moaned and clenched around him, hot and tight and perfect and they couldn’t get enough. Harvey loved it when Mike pinned him, skinny arms deceptively strong (being a werewolf has its perks), loved it when Mike rode him until his stomach was coated in Mike’s semen. He loved it when Mike licked him completely clean and then made him dirty again.  
Harvey pinned Mike down, licking his chest and rubbing a hand on Mike’s stomach as he kept his hips going. Four quick thrusts and Mike was coming, arching up with his mouth open in a silent cry. Harvey kept going, knowing fully well that Mike can easily go two more times. Harvey rolled them over so Mike was on top and let him take over; Mike rolled his hips like a pro, clenching when he needed to, finally leaning forward and capturing Harvey’s lips. They moaned and breathed in unison and Harvey reached back, slipping two fingers alongside his prick. He crooked them slightly and Mike was gone, biting hard into Harvey’s shoulder and groaning against his skin. His walls fluttered and spasmed randomly and Harvey came inside, painting Mike’s insides white.  
“One inch long,” Mike panted in his ear, “Officially a fetus.”  
“You’re going to be so beautiful in a few weeks,” Harvey laughed and kissed his neck.

Mike guzzled down another glass of water and gestured to Harvey, “Order some more Indian food and more oranges.”  
Harvey rolled his eyes, “I think this is the most culturally diverse week of dining I’ve ever had.” Mike glared at him and refilled the glass.  
“Get some chives too.”

Harvey settled on his knees, placing a hand on Mike’s growing belly. Mike was skinny, and at twelve weeks he was growing big fast. He was currently wearing a pair of Harvey’s trousers and an argyle sweater, and his growing bump was still apparent. They had just returned from an appointment with Dr. Goldman, and Mike’s eyes were still red from his tears of joy. The ultrasound showed a beautiful child, a strong heartbeat, and of course, apparent genitals. Goldman had asked them if they wanted to know the gender. They said no. Mike said it was a boy. Harvey wanted a girl. Mike, being the one carrying the kid, said his feelings were correct and punched Harvey in the shoulder. That one hurt. Harvey kissed Mike’s belly and Mike moved away to go get something to eat.  
Harvey lit another scented candle. He thought about all the good things about pregnancy: the glowing, the baby bump, an actual baby, boobs. Then he thought about the shitty things: the vomit, Mike saying awful things when he was in a bad mood, the constant cravings for weird things (the most recent was baked potatoes with curry on top), and now, flatulence.  
Harvey knew why – Mike’s stomach muscles were slowing down, making shitting a real bitch and making Mike very, very gassy. Harvey knew it would only get worse as Mike got bigger. Mike was starting to miss more work, and they would need to talk to Jessica soon. Mike’s pregnancy was starting to get more real with one week left of the first trimester. 

“Harvey, he has hiccups again,” Mike pulled a sweater from the hanger, pressing it to his body in front of a mirror. Harvey appraised the sweater and put it in the basket. It was already full of things Harvey had picked out. They went to purchase their clothes and Mike tapped his foot. He had been feeling less drained, thankful the placenta was doing the hormonal feeding and not him. Maybe he could do a few hours of work without faceplanting on the bed for a nap.

“The tests are negative for Down’s syndrome, trisomy 18, and tube defects.”  
“That’s great, fuck me again. I feel awesome.”  
“I signed you up for yoga.”  
“You did what?”  
“Yoga. Don’t worry, it’s a class of werewolves. I talked to Goldman.”

“I’m so tired of all these tests. Seriously.”  
“You’re still beautiful.”  
“Harvey, stop touching my bump.”  
“No. Oh, and I noticed the nipple-level wet spots on the sheets.”  
“I notice them on my shirts. Oh, there’s another contraction.”  
“Damn Braxton-Hicks contractions. It’s like your uterus is playing Just the Tip with you.”

“When do you think he’ll start moving?”  
“Maybe she’ll start moving next week. Anyway, I set an appointment with Jessica on Wednesday to discuss your maternity leave.”  
“Wouldn’t it be paternity leave? I have a dick after all.”  
Tuesday came and went and soon Mike and Harvey were seated in Jessica’s office.  
“So Harvey,” Jessica began, “To what do I owe this pleasure?”  
Mike narrowed his eyes. “I’m pretty sure you already know. You can use your nose, you know.”  
Harvey blinked and stared at Jessica and Mike smirked, rubbing his belly,  
You’ve done a good job of hiding it.”  
“You’re showing, Mike,” Jessica said, a coy smile on her lips, “And I’ll put you out on sick leave. When you come back, you’ll say you had mono.”  
“Yes ma’am.” Mike got out, looking at the floor respectfully. Harvey finally found his voice.  
“What?”  
“Jessica is an alpha,” Mike said. Jessica crossed her arms, “I figured it out when we went to dinner. She knows about me, and she’s okay with it.” He smiled at her with such devotion it made Harvey jealous.  
“That actually makes a lot of sense,” he muttered, “Is Louis a unicorn too?”  
Jessica rolled her eyes. “Keep me posted, Mike.”  
Harvey jolted awake, the sound of Mike’s breathless sobs echoing throughout the apartment. Harvey quickly sat up and pulled Mike into his lap, mindful of Mike’s stomach and tender breasts. Mike clutched his chest and sobbed harder, burying his face in Harvey’s neck.  
“He’s gone!” Mike cried, clutching at Harvey, “He’s gone and it’s all my fault!”  
Harvey grimaced and rocked Mike until he quieted a bit, enough to explain his dream without crying hysterically. “What happened, Mike?”  
“The baby! He’s gone, I-I freaked out and got an abortion! He’s gone, Harvey!” Mike cried harder, and Harvey quickly pressed his hand to Mike’s stomach, “I can’t be a father! I can’t raise a kid, Harvey, not after what I’ve done.” He was hysterical, sobbing, his face in his hands.  
“Jesus, Mike, you’re seventeen weeks pregnant…what happened to you?”  
“I…” Mike sniffled, “After my first heat in high school Trevor got me way into pot and then…he-he would sell me during estrus to any wolves who wanted a quick lay for drug money. He didn’t care if they wore protection, he didn’t even give me enough to buy birth control. He made me go out on my own – a sixteen year old kid! – and find a doctor who knew about werewolves and did abortions. This happened for years – Trevor kept on breeding me and I would keep on getting pregnancies terminated and…” He cried a bit more. Harvey stared, stunned, furious that anyone would take advantage of Mike when he was so helpless. He was even angrier with himself for saving Trevor from violent drug dealers, wishing now he had watched and laughed as the thugs shot the man in the head.  
“I’m so afraid that one of these days I’m going to crack and get the pregnancy terminated because I’m not fit to be a parent…” Mike wiped his eyes and looked at Harvey. He winced at the furious look his lover was giving the blanket. Mike pressed his hand against his swelling stomach and felt the baby kick it gently. He smiled sadly and grabbed Harvey’s hand. The baby kicked it with a bit more force when he laid Harvey’s palm against his belly. Harvey grinned and kissed Mike.  
“When this kid is born,” Harvey whispered against Mike’s cheek, “I will find Trevor, and he’ll pay for what he’s done.” 

Harvey could tell Mike was feeling sore. The poor guy was fidgeting constantly, rubbing his legs, and wincing every time he got up for a bathroom break. He looked back down at the grainy ultrasound photo in his hand, tracing it fondly. He was finding it hard to keep away from Mike’s belly, feel the baby flutter in Mike’s womb. 

Mike rolled his hips down Harvey’s cock, supporting his belly with one hand. He moaned in glorious ecstasy, glad the weight of the developing child pressed against his prostate. He leaned back, letting Harvey take over until they were shuddering and moaning in orgasmic pleasure. Harvey pulled out and lay Mike against the bed sheets before delving between his legs and licking into Mike’s opening, tasting himself and Mike’s juices and smelling his arousal. His cock twitched with interest and Mike moaned, spreading himself wider. Harvey felt a Braxton-Hicks contraction tighten Mike’s muscles, then the baby kicked a bit. Harvey smiled and pressed a kiss to the under side of Mike’s stomach before sliding his tongue back to Mike’s opening and up his perineum to his balls and Mike was shuddering again. Harvey was thankful for these moments, knowing they would have less time to enjoy each other when their child came and Mike went back to work. 

“Ooh-oh! We’re half way there!’  
“Mike, you can’t sing for anything.”  
“Shut up, Harvey, this is awesome.”


	5. Getting Bigger

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The final weeks of Mike's pregnancy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright guys. Next chapter is the ever so lovely birth scene! Because pushing a watermelon-sized thing out of a little hole is so fun to write about.

“How was yoga, Mike?”  
“Awesome, let’s have sex.”  
“Give me five minutes.”

“You’re getting big, Mike.”  
“Yes, Harvey. I am. I’m also severely constipated and thirsty all the time and my bellybutton turned inside out.”  
“I didn’t need to know that.”  
“I love you.”

“Fifteen pounds…”  
“You look fine, Mike.” Harvey kissed his temple. Mike was glowing, beautiful and alluring and radiant and if he wasn’t about to go to work he would pin Mike down and fuck him senseless. 

Harvey will always remember watching Mike get up and fall with absolute horror. Mike ate less than usual that day, and was contemplating going to the bathroom. Harvey watched over a magazine as Mike got up quickly, drain of color and fall back limply onto the couch. He was on the phone in an instant, at Mike’s side, Goldman answering.  
“Mike fainted.” Mike blinked at him, a confused frown on his face. He rubbed his eyes, groaning to himself. Harvey furrowed his brow.  
“Did he? Is he awake now?”  
“Yeah.”  
“Get him something with sugar and bring him in.”  
After a trip to the doctor’s Mike came home with diagnosed anemia and was told to eat more things loaded with iron. He liked veggies, so that was okay.

Harvey looked at the white crib sitting innocently in the corner of the bedroom. Mike sat next to him, a hand supporting his belly.  
“My back hurts. Want to go swimming with me?”  
“Yes.”

Mike became a master of the twenty minute nap. Harvey often moved to the couch to avoid Mike’s restless rolling, depending on where his leg was cramping. Harvey thought it was cute when he found Mike sleeping. 

“I found a stretch mark. And I’m gaining weight like there’s no tomorrow. And I’m forming an addiction to Tums.”  
“And you’re still beautiful.”  
“Thanks Harvey.”

“Should we circumcise our kid?”  
“I’m not circumcising my daughter.”  
“We’re having a son.”  
“Daughter.”  
“Next time leg cramps keep me awake I’m going to kick you in the spine. Also, your kid likes to suckerpunch my ribs.”

Mike was in the bathroom. Again. Harvey also noticed more milk stains on the sheets and on Mike’s shirts. Mike came out of the bathroom and sat gingerly on the couch, mindful of his enormous stomach. He decided to forgo a shirt today, and his swelling breasts looked uncomfortable. Harvey grinned and kneeled in front of him.  
Harvey swiped his tongue over Mike’s nipple, eliciting a breathy moan and a trickle of milk. Harvey lapped it up and clamped his mouth over Mike’s tender bud, sucking gently. He felt the warm milk on his tongue, sweet and enticing. He reached down to cup Mike’s penis, sliding a thumb up the clothed shaft.  
A few more licks and Harvey switched to the other nipple. He continued to pet Mike’s crotch lovingly; surprisingly, Mike was quiet. Harvey looked up. Mike was asleep.

Harvey decided he liked having sex with a pregnant Mike. He had to be creative so he could make love to Mike painlessly. He also liked the gentle sex; the baby was pressing against Mike’s diaphragm and made breathing difficult. The sex was still good. Their relationship was still strong.  
Mike started waddling a while ago, but now it was really visible. His wide, awkward walk made Harvey laugh during bad days.

A small dresser was set up and filled with gender-neutral clothes. Harvey spent more time sleeping on the couch than in bed with Mike’s constant shifting and getting up to pee. The baby was kicking less as it got bigger, and Mike was getting nervous. He signed himself up for a crash course in baby-birthing. 

Jessica was in their apartment. And Mike wasn’t wearing a shirt. He flushed a deep red and graciously gestured for her to put her gift (a swinging baby chair) on the coffee table. Mike excused himself to get dressed and waddled out to sit on an armchair.  
“When the baby is born,” Jessica said, crossing her legs on the couch, “I want you to join my pack. You’ll have safe care for your child and a network of werewolves for support.”  
“Okay. Thank you for the gift.”  
“I have more,” Jessica smiled.  
That evening Harvey walked into the apartment to see Mike sorting through all sorts of stylish and expensive baby necessities. Everything a child could possibly need. Mike smiled at him and. Said, “Jessica stopped by. She wants me to join her pack when the baby is born.”

“I like this maternity ward. It’s nice.”  
“I do too. Too bad the baby isn’t due for seven more weeks.”  
“Can’t wait.”

Mike continued to drink enormous amounts of water and go to the bathroom often. Sleeping was awful and everything hurt. He couldn’t wait for his child to be out in the world so he could sleep again. 

“Mike, I found the best pediatrician out there.”  
“Good. Goldman says I’m negative for Group B strep.”  
“Great!”

“Hooray for breathing!”  
“So the kid is dropping?”  
“Yep. We also agreed to circumcise him right?”  
“I have it in writing.”

“My bag is packed for the hospital.”  
“How are your joints?”  
“It hurts. A lot.”  
“Three weeks.”

“Thirty-eight weeks. This is considered full term.”  
“I feel like absolute shit Harvey.”  
“Soon we’ll be taking care of a baby.”  
“Maybe the lack of sleep will help me lose all this fucking weight.”  
“Maybe.”

Mike occupied himself with reading books on everything: breast feeding, birth, dieting, he even read pornos. Not that he could reach his dick around his gigantic stomach anyway. 

Forty weeks. The due date came and went and Mike was still waddling around with a baby in his womb. Harvey took the week off from work to monitor him. Goldman said going a few days over was normal. 

Monday of week forty-one. “I want to die, Harvey. I want this goddamn kid OUT.”


	6. A New Face

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which a child enters the world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gaahhh birth looks so awful. Condoms kids.

Friday of week forty-one. Mike discovered thick bloody discharge in his underwear on Wednesday. The waiting game begins. Harvey was at Pearson Hardman sorting some work out. The first contraction was subtle – a slight ache in his lower back. He noted the time in his head and found a bunch of shitty towels just in case his water broke early. He went to the bathroom and walked around for a bit. He sat back down and picked up a book. Half an hour later, another contraction.  
Mike called Harvey, “I just had contraction number two. Contraction one was two hours and twenty three minutes ago.”  
“I’m on my way.” Mike heard Harvey whoop before he hung up.  
The third contraction happened two hours and five minutes after the second. It hurt a bit more than the first two. Harvey was home, watching him nervously. The next contraction was an hour and forty five minutes after the fourth.  
“Alright,” Mike said, “That one hurt. Hospital, let’s go.”  
He pulled on a full length skirt (Harvey found it, it honestly looked good on him. Fuck you society, men can wear skirts) and a grey t-shirt. They were in Ray’s car and off to the hospital in twenty minutes. Harvey had called the maternity ward while Mike was getting ready. They knew to get a special room prepared and keep Mike out of the public eye. There was a birthing pool in the corner. Mike was pacing in his room, grunting with each contraction. He was walking around, allowing the baby’s head to keep constant pressure on his cervix and quicken dilation. He had removed his clothes but kept his underwear on for the sake of his own decency. It was easier, this free movement, but seeing his gigantic belly and small breasts in the harsh hospital light was alien. A nurse stood by, asking Mike to lay down periodically to check the dilation. 

The contractions were ten minutes apart, the time decreasing with each clench. Mike moaned in agony as the contractions lasted longer. He was sweating. The nurse asked Mike to lay down once more. “You’re dilated two and a half centimeters.”  
Mike moaned and rolled back up, waddling to a chair and sitting. He rocked gently. Harvey approached him and rubbed a tennis ball inside a sock down Mike’s tight back. Mike groaned and so bed as another contraction tore through him. “You’re doing so well.”  
Harvey was unprepared for Mike’s water breaking, the slow trickle then the rush of milky liquid over the floor. Mike moaned quietly and Harvey kissed his shoulder.  
Mike read about this, the agony of the active phase, when the cervix dilated to ten centimeters. The nurse had gone to fetch the doctor and pediatrician. Mike sobbed harder as another contraction ripped through him. Harvey had warm hands on his shoulders, rocking him gently. Another. Scream. Pause, five minutes of quiet; Mike seemed to doze. Then another. Sob.  
Harvey felt like he was about to cry as this went on for three hours. One last check to make sure Mike was fully dilated. Mike moaned and tried to lurch to his feet. Harvey and a nurse helped him up and supported him to the pool. The water was hip-deep, and Mike rested on his arms, eyes closed. His legs were spread in the water. He moaned intermittently. Harvey stroked his shoulders and the back of his neck.  
The contractions were coming every three minutes. Mike’s face was contorted, red down to his collarbones. They lasted for thirty seven minutes as the baby dropped into the birth canal. He moaned quietly as a gloved hand probed his opening. Harvey kissed Mike’s nose softly.  
“You’re crowning,” the nurse said, “breathe, Mike. I’ll tell you when to push.”  
Mike groaned.  
“Alright, push Mike!”  
Mike’s face scrunched even more, he took a deep breath and pushed hard, a low scream rising in his throat as the baby stretched him beyond capacity. A great rush of air, another signal from the nurse. Inhale. Push. Quiet scream. Harvey pressed a kiss to Mike’s forehead.  
“Almost there, one more and the head will be out.”  
Mike pushed, tears leaking from his eyes. Harvey wiped them away with his thumb. His eyes stung, and he wasn’t the one giving birth. Mike exhaled sharply and huffed with relief. He felt weird with the nurses sticking their fingers in and around his opening to adjust the position of his vulva. It was invasive and embarrassing.  
“A few more pushes Mike.”  
“Fuck.”  
Mike was honestly glad for the soothing warmth of the pool, the aid of gravity, and Harvey. He pushed, feeling his opening stretch far wider to accommodate the shoulders. He whined through his nose and pushed again. He felt the nurse turn the child and then it was over.  
In a rush the baby slithered out. Mike let loose a cry of relief and looked back to see his child. The nurse was urging him to carefully turn over and sit on a bench in the tub. Mindful of the umbilical cord, he sat and immediately burst into tears. The baby, covered in all sorts of slippery things from the womb, was placed on his chest. The nurse rubbed it with a towel and another cleared its nostrils until it gave a hearty cry. He heard a sniffle. Harvey was trying to contain his tears of joy. He was a dad.  
The nurses cut the umbilical cord (Harvey was squeamish). Their pediatrician (hired by Harvey but recommended by Goldman, his name was Luke Frische) looked the child over, took measurements, and decided it was healthy. Mike delivered the placenta and the nurses helped him out of the pool so he could lay in the bed. They examined him, numbed him up and stitched any tears closed. Mike wanted to hold his child. Frische saw Mike’s “gimme-gimme” hands and gave it back. Mike cradled it in one arm, covered Harvey’s eyes with the other, and peered between the child’s legs.  
“I was right, Harvey!” Mike said smugly. “Lucas Xavier Ross-Specter.”  
Harvey pulled Mike’s hand away and looked at his son. He was pale and wrinkly and absolutely beautiful. Harvey broke down then, big fat tears rolling down his cheeks. 


End file.
